


shock of contact

by S_Hylor



Series: Bingo Round 1 2018 [3]
Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: 1960s, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, Assisted Suicide, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Conversion Therapy, M/M, Medical Malpractice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-14 04:01:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14762214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/S_Hylor/pseuds/S_Hylor
Summary: Tony had had it all. Steve, their life together, the plans to start up his own company.Then he lost it all.





	shock of contact

**Author's Note:**

> This is an idea I've had that has plagued me for a while now. It's meant to be a longer story, including the beginning of Steve and Tony's relationship and life together, but this is what the muse handed me on the day. 
> 
> The angst portion of this is inspired by the song The Shock of Kontact by Amanda Palmer and Edward Ka-Spel. I recommend listening to it if you like songs that kick you right in the feels.
> 
> For my Stony Bingo square "Sway"

Steve stands where Tony leaves him, in the doorway between the hallway and his bedroom, face blank as he stares at the corner of the room. Tony hesitates, setting Steve’s bag down, the few scant belongings he’d managed to wrest back from that terrible place. A shirt, soft and blue that Tony remembers loving so much, loving the way it accentuated Steve’s eyes, made them look so bright. Bright in a way he doesn’t think he’ll ever see again. A photo of them, one he remembers Jan taking, small and grainy, slightly blurred where Steve had swung his arm over Tony’s shoulders at the last minute. Their smiles so carefree and innocent. From a time before, when Tony had believed he could have a happy ever after with Steve. Steve who had shared his milkshakes with Tony, two straws in the one glass. Who had shared his life with Tony, given him everything, supported him, encouraged him to follow his dreams. Steve, who in return, had let Tony take everything from him.

Steve sways in place, like a great tree whose roots have been compromised. Only one gust of wind away from being blown over.

That place, that horrible place, took everything about the man Tony loves and killed it. Oppressed it, beat it out of him, until they were satisfied that Steve had been _cured of his sickness_. Until there was nothing left except a shell, empty and void.

A sob jerks out of Tony throat. He clamps his hand over his mouth, drags a shuddering breath in through his nose, but all it does it make his sinuses sting and tears push into his eyes. He’d promised himself he’d be strong, that he’d be strong for Steve. Be strong for both of them.

But it had always been Steve who had been the strong one. Tony had been the one who needed looking after. It was that dependency that had failed Steve. If, for even one second, he’d been able to see past the sense of betrayal, past his own hurt feelings and bruised ego, he’d have been able to tell that it was never Steve who had sold him out.

If only he’d been able to do that, Steve wouldn’t be standing there, staring blankly at familiar things, not recognising any of them. Not recognising Tony.

He remembers one of the nights, when they hadn’t been able to afford kerosene for heating and they’d huddled together under the fraying knitted blanket Steve’s mother had made. Steve had told him all about her that night, about how sickness had taken her in the end, after long weeks of suffering. He’d looked at Tony with earnest blue eyes that night and made him promise.

“ _Don’t ever let me waste away like that. Please. I couldn’t bear it.”_

He looks at Steve again, at the blank look on his face and his lifeless eyes. The hollow cheeks and ribs he’d been able to count beneath his shirt. This isn’t the Steve he’d met all those years ago. Who’d set a milkshake down on the table in front of him, brushing aside all his papers and designs and declared that a mad scientist needed something more substantial than coffee as fuel.

Two straws in the one strawberry milkshake had been the start of his whole world.

His whole world that is now blank and void of spark. There will be no shock of contact when he touches Steve any more. He isn’t sure Steve is even there to touch any more.

Tony pushes past Steve to get back out into the hallway, feels him sway in the wake of his movement. The strong breeze that finally fells the great tree.

He hesitates again before picking up the phone and dialling Doctor Banner’s number. When he picks up, Tony almost breaks down at the softness of his voice.

“Bruce.” He chokes the name out, then clamps his jaw shut, breathing deeply until he feels like he has control again. “Bruce I need a favour.”

“Tony?” Bruce sounds hesitant on the other end. “Is everything alright with Steve?”

He shakes his head, then has to remind himself that he can’t be seen. “No. It’s not Steve any more, Bruce. I need your help. I promised him.”

“ _Don’t ever let me waste away like that. Please. I couldn’t bear it.”_

  


  


When he gets home again, Steve is still where he left him, sitting on the sofa in the living room. He stares straight through Tony, even when he stands right in front of him, but he moves, compliant and docile when Tony takes his hand and leads him to the kitchen. He stands where Tony leaves him, swaying slightly from side to side, staring blankly at the kitchen bench top.

At the strawberry milkshake Tony had made him, one straw protruding from it, and all the pills Bruce had given him ground up and mixed into it.

“ _I don’t want him to suffer. He made me promise not to let him, and oh god, Bruce, I’ve made him suffer so much already.”_

“ _He won’t. I promise he won’t.”_

Nudging the milkshake towards Steve, Tony tries to smile, tries to act like everything is normal. “I promised you, Steve.”

Steve gives a slow blink at the sound of his name, but the rest of his face remains blank. Tony doesn’t even know how much he understands any more. He doesn’t know how much damage they did. Not on the inside. He can see the external damage, the electrical burn scars on his temples, the sunken eyes, black smudges beneath them. Stepping closer, Tony reaches up, touching his fingertips to the burn scar, presses his lips to Steve’s cheek and chants apologies in his mind that he knows are pointless to say out loud.

For a moment he thinks Steve leans into his touch, but then he sways away again. Taking a step back, Tony stares at the milkshake, resists the urge to dump the whole thing in the sink, because he can’t stand the idea of losing Steve all over again.

Except, this isn’t Steve. Not any more. He killed the Steve he loved back when he accused him of selling his designs to Hammer and let Howard take him away.

There’s a shift beside him, snapping him out of his thoughts. Steve sways towards the counter, reaching towards the milkshake. Then he reaches past it, to the packet of straws Tony had left on the counter, plucking one out of the bunch, a red and white one, before carefully poking it into the milkshake. He sways back then, turning his face towards Tony.

There’s still no recognition there, he stares straight through Tony, but there’s something, some kind of spark of pride in his eyes, like he thinks he’s done the right thing.

“Okay, sweetheart.” Tony whispers. “Okay.”

Two straws in the one strawberry milkshake will be the end of his whole world.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sorry.


End file.
